


Tuesday Nights: Super Bowl Special

by chibi_nightowl



Series: Tuesday Nights [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - No Capes, Language, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 21:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9566177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibi_nightowl/pseuds/chibi_nightowl
Summary: Jason doesn't even try to hide the fact he hates Super Bowl Sunday. Roy, Kori, and Steph all say he's the most un-American man they know and tease the crap out of him for it. He doesn't care. He runs a bar and for him, this is his Black Friday. It's busier than hell, even worse than New Year's, and he has to order a ton of extra food for specials he only does on this day just to make it worthwhile since the assholes he calls customers will plant their fat butts in their chairs and not move for the next five hours.





	

**Author's Note:**

> You can all thank GoAwayOlivia for this. It was originally going to be a chapter in Milestones, but considering it's Super Bowl weekend, it seemed more appropriate as a oneshot. I tried really hard to make sure there were no spoilers for the Milestones storyline since that's still back in November in terms of time and this takes place the first weekend of February, so about two months after the last chapter. But I still had to have some fun!
> 
> For those readers who don't follow American sports, Super Bowl Sunday is where the two best American football teams go head-to-head in the biggest football game of the year. It's one of those days that just needs to be made into a holiday already.

 

Jason eyes the clock on the wall in the kitchen and then gives a tight look to the people standing in front of him. He’s stressed out and not ashamed to hide it. "Tim, I hope to God you know what you're getting into today. If you like either of these two guys, you'll send them packing right now."

Tim gives him a wry look. "And what about me? Shouldn't you be sending me packing too?"

"Nah, you're stuck with me. My misery is your misery."

"I thought that was only _after_ you get married," Tam chimes in, looking up from her perfect looking nails. She's dressed casually for the first time Jason's ever seen, looking sharp in a pair of jeans and a woman's sized Gotham Knights jersey. She's even wearing sneakers, which Jason didn't think she owned.

"Test run," Jason smirks. "Gotta make sure Timmy doesn't run scared."

“Just let me know who pops the question first,” Tam smirks. “I got money on this.”

Tim lets out a gusty sigh at Jason’s interested look and smacks his hand to his forehead in frustration. “Please, don’t bring that up again. We’ve only been dating for four months.”

“But, Tim, you practically live here now!”

Jason grins as Tam and Tim go back and forth. _This is the first I’ve heard about this. Have to catch her later to see who else is involved and what the terms are. Then Tim and I can fuck it up for everyone._

"Does it really get _that_ busy today?" Tim's best friend, Connor Kent, asks incredulously over the bickering going on around them.  The man's as tall and broad as Jason but he has a hard time taking seriously a grown man wearing _flannel and plaid_. _Hard to believe this guy's also a Stanford graduate like Tim. He looks so...normal._

Jason gives him a flat look. "I thought Tim said you were a bouncer in college."

"Well, yeah, but I always took Super Bowl off to watch the game."

Tim turns his attention from Tam to smack Kon across the back of his head. "Stop playing the dumb hick from Kansas, Kon. The last thing Jason needs is an aneurysm today."

Kon grins and lets out a loud laugh. "You're taking the fun outta this, Tim!"

Jason opens his mouth but Tam cuts him off. "Relax, Jay. We got this. I've done some waitressing before and Kon's not nearly as stupid as he looks.”

"Hey!" Kon tries to protest but Tam keeps going.

"Besides, we wouldn't be here today if we didn't have anything better to do."

"Gee, thanks," Jason drawls as he watches Tim elbow Kon. "Hey Kansas, just what does Timmy have on you that's got you working here instead of watching the game at home?" _Because Tim has to have something. He's not above using blackmail to get what he wants. Sneaky little shit..._

Kon rubs the back of his head, a bit shamefaced and glances at Tim, who simply raises an eyebrow in response. No help there. He sighs. "Promise of an exclusive."

Jason narrows his eyes as he gives Tim a _look_. He knows Kon is the reporter friend from Metropolis. "You know what? Never mind. I don't wanna know. I got enough shit to deal with today."

Roy chooses that moment to wander into the kitchen. "Hey, Jaybird! Ready for chaos?" he asks brightly, then he sees the new recruits. "Oh, you must be the fresh meat. Nice to meet ya, I'm Roy." He gives a general wave and tries to sneak past Jason to get to the stove where a large pot full of Jason’s BBQ sauce and meatballs is simmering away. Jason grabs his arm and gives it a twist as he hauls the man back around. Roy yelps, in shock or pain Jason doesn't know or care.

"Nuh-uh, you keep your hands out of that pot, you understand? I do _not_ need a repeat of what happened last time."

"Aw, c'mon, Jay! They're so _good_ ," Roy whines as he tries again to get past his best friend. “I haven’t had any since _last year_.”

"Are those the little hot dogs in your BBQ sauce?" Tim perks up. "Those were _really_ good."

"What? You've had them?" Roy asks, looking surprised. "When did Jay make them for you? Why wasn't I there?"

"Thanksgiving, jackass. These are meatballs, you fuckers get the hot dogs, Christ knows why as I could charge 10 bucks a plate for those and make a killing. Now get back out there. I've got a snack bar all set up for you assholes to graze on in the office. If you eat all the hot dogs, Tim's going to kick your ass from here to Tricorner." He looks at Tim and his friends as Roy turns tail and runs from the kitchen. "Feel free to lynch him if he eats everything and let me know so I can watch. I need some enjoyment out of this evening."

Kon's giving Jason a strange look. "You know, you must be the first guy I've ever met who doesn't like the Super Bowl," he says disbelievingly.

"Look what I do for a living!" Jason waves his arms around for emphasis. "When the hell am I going to have time to even catch a commercial?"

"And that's why you have more help today," Tim cuts in. "Kon, you're busboy and extra bouncer if someone's stupid enough to get in a fight and don't piss themselves stupid when Roy and Jay gang up on them. Tam, you're with Steph and Kori. Steph's supposed to show you where everything is, right?"

"You got it, bossy-pants. Now go get behind that bar and let me run you ragged." Tam gives Tim a saucy grin.

"Thanks for bartending, rich boy. Go make me proud," Jason teases.

"You mean go make you money and keep the place from burning down."

"Yeah, that too."

*****

Jason doesn't even try to hide the fact he hates Super Bowl Sunday. Roy, Kori, and Steph all say he's the most un-American man they know and tease the crap out of him for it. He doesn't care. He runs a _bar_ and for him, this is his Black Friday. It's busier than _hell_ , even worse than New Year's, and he has to order a ton of extra food for specials he only does on this day just to make it worthwhile since the assholes he calls customers will plant their fat butts in their chairs and not move for five hours with the exception of hitting the can in back.

Is he bitter much? Yes, because for once he'd like to be selfish and see for himself just what the big deal is about this fucking game. But he can't because he runs the bar and the kitchen and he's banned from the front room on this day of the year because Roy says he's a downer. _I'm not a fucking downer, I just don't want a grease fire on my hands like what happened three years ago when I let Roy try to make some fries. Worked at McDonalds my ass..._

"Was there really a grease fire?" Tam asks as she walks into the kitchen with a bunch of new orders for him. "I think the heat back here's getting to you, hon, if you're talking to yourself." She arches an eyebrow.

"Fucking hell, why does everyone I know do that to me?" Jason grouses as he looks the orders over and shoves a couple of plates in her direction. "And yes, there was. Just not on Super Bowl, thank fuck."

Tam looks unimpressed. "Your language really deteriorates when you're stressed, doesn't it?"

Jason looks up from the crockpot he's getting chili out of and gives her a level look. "Yes, it fucking does. Now get me that useless sack of shit from Kansas back here with some dirty plates so that I have clean ones to serve more food on. And if I so much as smell beer on him, I'm kicking his ass outta here. I don't care what shit Tim's got on him."

"Yes, sir!" Tam laughs as she sashays out with her hands full.

According to Steph and Kori, she's really holding her own out there. Kori likes her already. Called her sassy earlier and grinned. _Totally her type of woman too but she'd never poach on Steph. Those two just need to break the ice or something. Hopefully today helps._ Jason knows from Steph that she and Tam are texting and talking occasionally but they've yet to really hang out. And he knows from Tim that Tam is stalling because she doesn't believe the bubbly blonde is really into her. _Fuck, what are we, matchmakers?_

Kon comes stumbling in with a large tray full of dirty plates and glasses. "You got a system for this?"

Jason gives him a _look_ as he heads to the sink. _Worst busboy ever. I hope whatever Tim has on him is good._ "Just dump the glasses in the sink. Scrape the plates off if they need them and stack them over here." He gestures to the counter alongside the sink.

"Don't you have a dishwasher?"

"'Course I do but it takes too fucking long. I'm not a full service restaurant most days so I don't have the equipment for one. Roll up those sleeves and start drying." Jason starts washing, quickly getting through the load Kon brought back.

Kon's fast and has the stack of plates ready by the time Jason's done with the glasses and couple of pitchers. "You're not what I expected," he says as he picks up a towel.

Jason snorts. "And just what were you expecting?" he asks sarcastically.

He's given a level look in return from the big man. "I've known for a long time that Tim's bi. But this is the first time I've ever seen him act on it. I _know_ Tim. He's my best friend and has been since we were 16. So there has to be more to you than the bullshit I'm seeing today."

"Don't you two talk?"

"Not as much as we used to. He's been busy the last couple years."

Jason sighs and looks down at the water for a moment before smirking at Kon. "I'm an asshole who works hard for a living even though I don't technically have to. I like to read. I cook. And when I have some spare time, I like to rebuild motorcycles."

Kon grins, accepting Jason's gesture for what it is. "Thinking you like my best friend too."

"Yeah. He's a shit sometimes but he grew on me."

"He has a tendency to do that. I wanted to punch him the first time I met him."

"Oh, really? Do tell."

Jason and Kon trade stories about Tim as they get ready for the next big rush. The game hasn't started yet but all the pregame shows will be wrapping up soon. Kon runs out to grab more dishes and when he comes back, Tim's with him, scowling hard.

"Who pissed in your beer?" Jason asks as he deftly chops a bell pepper for the next batch of chili he's prepping.

Kon laughs as he goes to the sink and Tim gives him the biggest stink-eye before turning his attention back on Jason. "Guess who just walked in?"

"The Pope."

"Funny," he replies dryly. "Bruce. And Dick. And Babs."

Jason doesn't think his eyebrows have ever shot that high so quickly. "What the hell?" _Oh shit, why on earth are they here_ today _of all days? It's too soon. Facing Bruce and knowing what the shitstain of a son did to me and not being able to say anything...fuck. Fuck fuck, fuckity fuck._

"That's what I said!" Tim starts waving his hands in agitation. "It's busier than hell out there and they appear out of fucking nowhere. Dick was laughing at me when he came up to the bar to place his order." He pointedly gives Jason a _look_ and glances over at Kon before turning his gaze back on Jason.

He plays along, knowing what Tim's hinting at. _No speaking about the demon in front of Kon. Shit._ "The hell he do that for? I have three waitresses today, where the fuck are they?"

"Busy laughing at me too."

"Shit." Jason scoops up the pepper and tosses it into the large crockpot, making sure it's on high before he rinses his hands off. "Okay, I'm going out there." _I've gotta make an appearance. It'll look suspicious if I don't._

"Thank God." Tim trails along behind Jason as he steps out into chaos. The kitchen may be warm but it's a damn sight quieter than the cacophony that meets his ears.

He spies Barbara's bright red hair first, over in the corner by the pool table. She's up in one of the bar stools at the high top. The table's been moved closer to the wall for her. "How the hell is she sitting up there?"

"She's leaning against the wall. Her chair is folded up next to her."

"Okay. So how the hell she get that table? That's fucking prime real estate on a day like this."

"It's Babs. I don't question it." Tim gives him a shove as he brushes past him to head back to the bar. "I'll remind the others to not say anything in front of them. Have fun."

Jason gives Tim a dirty look before making his way through the dense crowd. It’s getting to the point where it’s standing room only. He makes his way past the pool table, which he’d had Kori and Roy cover up earlier with a special lid to create a flat surface for people to put their drinks and food on. It's easier to clean if some drunk spills something.  _  
_

Dick spots him first and gives Jason a big grin and a wave. “Hey there, Jay!” he says brightly.

“Dick.” It’s always a toss up if Jason’s calling him by name or insulting him. He gives Barbara a forced grin. “What’s up, pretty lady?” He doesn’t see Bruce anywhere. _Thank Christ for small favors that Damian's not here. You can do this, Jaybird._

“Hello, Jason!” Barbara replies with a grin of her own. “I am, for once!”

“I see that.” He eyes the table and stools for a moment. “I gotta know, how the hell did you get this table? You’ve got three TV screens to watch from just your angle alone.”

Dick laughs as he takes a sip of beer. There’s a pitcher and three glasses on the table. “Bruce gave the people sitting here a $100 a head if they’d move elsewhere.”

Jason bursts out laughing. “Oh, fuck me, that’s the best thing I’ve heard all day! Not being very inconspicuous, is he?” _Jesus Christ, only Bruce Wayne would do something like that._

Barbara shakes her head. “Yes and no. You’ll see when he gets back here. He’s at the bar trying to talk to Tim.”

Dick laughs again. “You should have seen the look on Tim’s face when I caught him at the bar. Totally a deer-in-the-headlights moment. Thought he was going to toss the pitcher he was filling in my face for a moment there.”

“I can totally understand and relate to that feeling.” Jason and Dick may be on better terms but Jason still doesn’t like the guy that much. _He’s just so…Dick. How someone like him is a police detective in a city more crime ridden than Gotham is just beyond me. I can see what Tim means though when he says everyone likes Dickie though. The guy’s got charisma is spades.  
_

Jason and Dick stare off for a moment before Barbara interrupts. “So Jason, is it easier to place an order with you or wait for one of your waitresses to come by? I’ve heard so much about your food here that I want to order one of everything.”

“Double fried pickles!” Dick grins at his wife. “They’re _amazing!_ ”

“That sounds good,” a deep voice says from behind Jason. He turns and sees Bruce trying to slide into the open seat. “Hello Jason,” he says with a small smile that Jason knows by now is really a grin for the big man. He can see now what Barbara meant when she said yes and no. Bruce is wearing a football jersey that looks brand new and if those jeans have been washed more than twice, Jason’ll eat his apron. _Yeah, Tim was right. Bruce tries to fit in but doesn’t always get it right. Gotta give him points for trying. Deep breath, Jay. Your beef is with his son, not with him, though I gotta admit his bad parenting had to have played a role in this. Can't blame everything on the brat's mom.  
_

“Hey there, big guy. Didn’t expect to see you here today. Figured you’d have your own party or some shit.” _Alfred’s not here, so I can say whatever I want, dammit._

“We usually do, but Damian’s not into _American football_ ,” at this Bruce does air quotes and a faint sneer appears briefly on his face as he lightly mocks his only blood son, “and Alfred could do with a day off. Cass isn’t much into big crowds, so she’s having a quiet evening with Alfred.”

“So here we are!” Dick finishes and raises his glass in a toast towards Jason.

Jason stares for a moment and just shakes his head. “You guys are fucking unbelievable. You can easily afford to be anywhere but here you are in the fucking Bowery. Okay, one of everything with double fried pickles. Hope you brought your appetites.”

He heads back to the kitchen and works his ass off for the next hour as the big game starts and orders continue to pile in. _Busiest fucking day of the year, but I get so far into the black that’s its worth it. Get a bit of a breather for a bit, then March Madness starts up. Christ, I wish I liked sports._

“What about racing?” Kon asks from his place at the sink. He’s been running back and forth quite a bit now and knows what Jason expects of him at this point. At Jason’s blank look, he clarifies with a smirk. “You’re muttering to yourself again.”

“Oh.” Jason looks down at the pile of onion he’s been chopping and tosses it into a crockpot. He’s got all of the ones he owns down here today, all carefully labeled so he doesn’t get mixed up. “Racing’s boring. What does that one comic say about NASCAR? _He’s making a left turn. Oh boy, he’s making another left turn,_ ” he mocks. “What the fuck is interesting about that? If there’s one thing I do like to watch when I’ve got the time, it’s mixed martial arts. MMA tournaments are pretty awesome.”

“I will totally give you that one,” Kon says as he whips a wet towel over his shoulder. “It’s killing me to be back here right now. I used to play football in high school, that’s how I made it to Stanford actually. Sports scholarship.”

“That must be some exclusive Timmy’s promising you,” Jason says with a smirk as he goes to the stove to check on the BBQ sauce and meatballs. It’s running low, so he heads to the fridge to grab a large sealed container with more. Everything was prepped the day before, so it just needs to reheat now.

“Fuck, yeah,” Kon agrees. “It’ll be all about the new Drake Industries and how he left WE to start it. If I do it right, I might be able to sell it to _Forbes_ or _Business Week_ , one of those big business magazines. Tim’s face will be plastered on the cover, just watch.”

The thought doesn’t sit well with Jason, but he knows Kon’s work is mostly freelance, so he understands why he’s excited at the prospect. _This is how he makes his living. Can’t begrudge a guy that. He could just as easily be writing a tabloid story about Tim and me, but he’s not. Kansas has integrity and isn’t taking advantage of his best friend._

“Just make sure I get a copy,” he says instead and empties the large container into the big pot. He hands it to Kon to wash and laughs at the man’s face as he realizes what he’s holding. His eyes widen comically as he stares into the empty tupperware. “I just made a batch of fries. They’re in the oven. Don’t eat them all.” Jason goes back to his workstation and Kon makes a beeline to the oven.

Stephanie walks in just as Kon’s wiping a thick cut steak fry down the side of the container. “Oh, damn, that’s usually my job!” she says as she hands Jason an order ticket for some fries and curry. “Speaking of which, Roy’s gone through all the hot dogs in the office. Tim’s threatened death on him if he takes the rest of the pickles and those fried mushrooms you snuck in. Those are really good with the spicy aioli by the way. You make’em or order them?” She finally pauses to take a breath.

“Made them. Caffeinated much?” Jason asks as he ladles out the curry.

“Just a bit,” she admits and gives him a cheery grin. “Tim’s been mixing Red Bull into my Shirley Temple’s.”

“As long as that’s _all_ he’s adding to them, that’s fine.” Jason gives her a look before going to the oven for the fries. “How’s he doing out there?”

“I swear to God, Jay, there is nothing that man can’t do.” Stephanie sounds impressed, which is big for her as she impresses about as easily as Jason, which is hardly at all. “He’s a natural. Chattin’ people up, making them laugh. He’s got a good rapport with Roy too, which is fun to watch when I get a second to breathe.”

“You’re makin’ me jealous, Steph. That’s my guy you’re talkin’ about there.” Jason hands her the plate and dipping bowl, which she sets on her tray.

“Then get the hell out there for a bit. Tam and Kori are fine if I come back here for a bit. Schmooze with your extremely VIP guests.” She gives him a pointed look.

Jason bites his lip for a second. _No, I want to stay back here so I don't have to watch my fucking mouth. Fucking appearances._ “Okay,” he sighs and heads over to the sink to wash his hands. “What table’s this for?”

“VIP,” Steph says as she joins him to wash up. “Bruce Wayne loves your curry.”

“Fucking walked right into that one, didn’t I?” Jason gives the blonde waitress a self-deprecating look.

“Yup. Now get that fine ass out there and make nice with your future in-laws.”

“Christ, are you in on this bet too?”

Kon laughs. “We all are.”

Jason mutters darkly under his breath as he snatches up the tray and heads out into the crowd. Before heading to the high top in the corner, he stops at the end of the bar closest to the kitchen door and catches Tim’s eye. The shorter man gives him a nod and finishes filling up a pitcher that he brings with him.

He raises an eyebrow. “Curry and beer for Bruce?”

Tim gives him a tired looking grin. “Curry for Bruce, beer for Babs and Dick. He doesn’t drink beer all that much.”

“Not refined enough for his palette?” Jason accepts the pitcher and sets it on his tray.

Tim snorts as he tries to suppress a laugh and fails. “Not strong enough actually. He noticed you have a new bottle of Scotch up on the top shelf and plans on breaking into later when things start settling down.”

“Why not now?” _That’s a $200 bottle, wholesale. I got it knowing the only person to drink it will be him._

Shrugging, Tim turns as someone shouts his name from the other end of the bar. Roy’s no where in sight. “He’s got his reasons.” He holds a hand up, indicating he’ll be there in a moment. “Roy’s in back getting some cases of beer out, so get that look off your face. Though I’m sure he’s detoured by the office too.”

Jason sighs and shakes his head. “That fucker does this shit every year. I saved a Tupperware of the hotdogs and BBQ sauce for you in my fridge upstairs.”

“Thanks, Jay.” Tim grins and looks like he’s about to lean over the counter to give Jason a quick kiss before someone else shouts his name. He rolls his eyes and sighs. “Later,” he says instead and walks away.

Jason can feel himself pouting for a moment before he shakes his head and laughs to himself. _Later indeed. If either of us can even get it up tonight, I’ll be fucking impressed. Shower, then bed. That’s all I fucking want. Thank God I’m closed tomorrow as it’s going to take me all day to clean up after this mess._ It’s true too. After the game’s over and the bar closes, Jason, Roy, and Steph will make sure the worst of the mess and all the spills are cleaned up (always rock, paper, scissors to see who gets bathroom duty; it’s usually Roy since he likes to use scissors first _every time_ ) while Kori runs all the final totals and submits the card payments for processing.

But come Monday afternoon, Jason drags himself from his loft and heads on down to give the bar a cleaning that would probably make Alfred proud.

Picking up the tray, Jason maneuvers his way through the crowd. “Okay,” he announces as he gets to the table, “I know I’m not anywhere near as pretty as Steph, but she volunteered to run the kitchen for a bit so I could show my face out here.”

Dick and Bruce ignore him in favor of the game, which is fine by him, but Babs grins as she accepts the pitcher Jason hands her. “More like check on Tim. You two are so cute, but that’s quite the pout you got there, Jason. Bet that works for you more often than not,” she teases.

“You know it,” he says with his cocky smirk. “How’s it goin’ over here? I know it’s not halftime yet because I still have food in my kitchen.”

At that, Bruce turns his attention from the large TV. “Do you usually run out after halftime?”

“The specials, yes. Everything else is hit or miss. I can usually still start closing down the kitchen by 10 like I normally do.”

Bruce looks thoughtful for a moment as he dips a fry into the curry and takes a bite. “In that case, I’d better put in my order for more wings now, I think.” He gives Jason another of his small smiles. “I didn’t think I’d be eating this good tonight, but Tim certainly wasn’t exaggerating about your food. Do you cater at all?”

Jason shakes his head. “Not really. Though Alfred has a standing order for my garlic aioli next time you host something at your penthouse. He likes my curry too."

At that, Bruce chuckles lightly. “Don’t tell Alfred, but I think your curry is better than his.”

“Sacrilege!” Dick finally chimes in as the game goes to a commercial. He grabs a fry though and dips in Bruce’s bowl of curry, ignoring the dark look the billionaire is giving him. “Although,” he says around the mouthful, “I may just have to secretly agree with you.”

*****

Halftime comes and Jason returns to the kitchen where he and Stephanie run themselves ragged keeping up with the orders coming in. Kori runs in and out of the kitchen the most, her long red hair looking like fire as she darts back and forth quickly.

She does have time though to give them a running commentary about the halftime show going on. “Considering some of the ones I’ve seen in past years, this is pretty good. But then again, I do like Lady Gaga.”

“I really want to make a poker face reference of some kind, but I’m too fucking busy to think,” Jason says as he works the fryer.

“Then don’t think, Jaybird, just cook. It’s what we’re paying you for today.” Kori grins at the dirty look Jason gives her from over his shoulder. She picks up her full tray. “If you’ll excuse me, I have tables waiting.”

Jason glares hard at the door. “If she wasn’t one of my best friends and the top fucking earner in this place, I’d kick her ass out to the curb.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Stephanie disagrees from where she’s furiously chopping celery to go with the wings that are almost flying themselves out of the kitchen. “She does your book-keeping. You’d be lost without her. Besides, we’re all pooling tips since there’s no such thing as assigned sections around here today.”

He redirects his glare to her. _Why on earth do I put up with this shit every year? Why??_

Kon laughs from his now almost permanent spot at the sink. “I think I need to come to Gotham more often! This place is awesome!”

“You’re sleeping at Tim’s if you do.”

*****

Finally, it’s time to close the kitchen. Jason stares almost disbelievingly at the clock, daring it to take back the time it says it is. “Fucking finally.” He heaves a huge sigh of relief.

Next to him, Kon also looks longingly at the clock, but for an entirely different reason. “Does that mean I can” he trails off, looking uncertainly at Jason who makes a shooing motion.

“Go on, get outta here. Get as smashed as you can on me before the game’s over. I got it.”

“Thanks, Jay!” Kon doesn’t hesitate and practically flies out the door to catch the end of the game.

Shaking his head, Jason takes a moment to breathe deeply and let it out slowly. It’s been a long day and he’s _tired._ _I’m filthy too. I don’t care how many times I’ve washed my face today, I still feel like a grease pit. Christ, I want a shower so bad right now. It’s almost over. Hang in there a bit longer._

Jason turns off the fryer and starts cleaning. Now that there’re no orders coming in, he’s easily able to slip into his routine of shutting down the kitchen. Garbage is taken out (the dumpster in the alley behind the bar is almost full from just them today) several times, though he does notice that all the glass bottles and soda cans are sorted into separate bags for recycling. That has Tim’s hand all over it as sorting bottles and cans is something he usually does on Mondays.

_Still gotta find out more about that bet. Kon and Steph wouldn’t spill, but maybe I can sic Tim on them and see if he can get them to spill. Seriously though, marriage? Me? Fuck, who ever came up with this one is going to be waiting a long ass time to collect._

The kitchen door opens while Jason’s at the sink. “If those are more dishes, just set them over here.” He points to the side of the sink where a large stack is still waiting.

“Just a few pitchers,” Tim’s voice says from right behind him. He reaches around and sets them next to Jason.

Jason feels the tension leaving his shoulders as Tim raises his arms and presses his thumbs into the base Jason’s neck. He shudders as he stands up straight and lets Tim work his magic. “You have magic fingers, I hope you know that.”

“So you’ve said before, just not in this context.” Tim’s smirking, Jason can tell.

“How’re you holding up?”

“I’m all right. I’m tired and I want a shower.” Tim sounds exhausted.

“How much longer does the game have?”

“Halfway through the fourth quarter. Almost over.”

“I told you today was going to suck.”

“You did. Bruce wants to know how much it’ll take to convince you to close next year so you can cook for a Super Bowl party at the Manor.”

Jason huffs a tired laugh. “I think he's gonna be rethinking that invite soon enough.”

“We'll just have to wait and see.” Tim leans in and places a warm kiss on the back of Jason’s neck.

He relaxes even more at the press of Tim’s lips. “Still, if it does happen, do I get to watch the game for once?”

“That can definitely be arranged.”

“I'll run some numbers. It'll keep him off my back for now.”

“So that means you accept? You know, there’s a bet going on for when the next time those words come out of our mouths.” Tim drops his arms and wraps them around Jason’s waist, leaning in and resting against Jason’s broad back.

“Yeah, you get the details on that? No one’s spilling to me.” Jason holds Tim’s hands tightly in his wet, soapy ones.

“I cornered Roy in the back and bribed him with the BBQ sauce and hotdogs you left for me up in the loft.”

Jason chuckles. “A worthy sacrifice. So what’s the deal?”

“Now why should I tell you?” Tim teases as he places another warm kiss on the back of his neck. “I’m a businessman. We’re always looking for a leg up on the competition.”

_So that’s how you want to play, huh? We’ll see about that._

Letting go of Tim’s hands, Jason turns in Tim’s arms and meets his boyfriend’s amused gaze, his own large hands settling easily on Tim’s narrow hips. His glasses are pushed up over his forehead and resting in his hair, so he has an uninterrupted view of Tim’s bright blue eyes. “Yeah, but you’re also open to negotiation. So…” Jason leans in and presses a light kiss to Tim’s forehead, another one on the tip of his nose, then hovers over Tim’s lips. “What are your terms?” he whispers against Tim’s barely open mouth.

The other man chuckles and leans in, pressing a quick kiss to Jason’s mouth before pulling back. “Negotiations don’t occur in the kitchen of your bar. Shower or bedroom, and no clothing allowed.”

“Until later then?”

“Until later. I’ll make you a Shirley Temple Special. That should keep you going until after our _negotiations_ are complete.” Tim grins against Jason’s mouth and sneaks another kiss before pulling back.

“Just how many of those have you _had?_ ”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I need to compile a cookbook for this series. :P


End file.
